Wednesday, May 5, 2010

The Cat with Crystal Eyes


The Cat with Crystal Eyes

“Praha Magica” Czechoslovakia

Walpurgis Nacht 30th of April 1914

"Six children are missing from Santa Marya. They must have been kidnapped! It is not like them to run away, especially on Walpurgis Nacht. I suspect Prince Kratos of this evil action. He has the power, the wealth and the lasciviousness to commit any crime without remorse. Oh Dearest Christ Child Jesus, what shall I do?

Jude Kuzmik of the Society of Jesus; was a priest, psychiatrist and exorcist. He prayed with his face down, prostrate on the cold marble floor of the Cathedral of Our Lady Victorious. Many years had passed since Jude had prayed so humbly before the jeweled statue of the Christ Child Jesus of Prague.

He had begged to be in charge of the Orphanage of Santa Marya. His Bishop thought he was wasting his time and talents on orphans.

"Your Excellency, we are beset with inequality, injustice, iniquity and indecency. Professor Sigmund Freud, an atheist and a psychiatrist in Vienna, is electrifying our society with his pagan definitions of some of our inner turmoil. The guns of war are poised to fire all over Europe. The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse are roaming Europe at will. Most of us don’t or won’t gaze at them. Santa Marya is a microcosm of our world. No one wants the task. Therefore I think I am the only one who can tackle this challenge precisely because of my qualifications. Please allow me to do so."

And so, the humble and brilliant Jude Kuzmik S. J. was named Director of Santa Marya, one of Europe’s largest and most troubled orphanages.

"Father," the soft voice of Deinos the dwarf interrupted his meditations. Jude gazed at him and pulled himself up to a sitting position on the marble floor .He waited for Deinos serenely.

"Iona has run out to be in the middle of the bawdy rituals of Walpurgis Nacht, for the first and last time. She told me so herself. She said not to worry. She would return by dawn, ready to do all her chores as usual. "

Jude rose to his full height, which was very tall indeed. He sighed deeply and the sigh reverberated in the empty Cathedral as the lament it was meant to be. “Iona has lust gnawing at her. I hope and pray that she will not be severely scarred by any negative experiences she might encounter tonight. I implore you Infant Jesus to spare her life and her soul.”

But his terror was for the six children. The comeliest of twins Franz and Magda, Anton the master thief. Lazzara, the exquisite child who was mute but heard and understood every word, Jan, a master with daggers and firearms. Blindfold, he could hit any target he set his mind to. There was little Matthias who was dying of tuberculosis.

I love them the most, for I am certain that they are being stalked by the darkest demons. I realize I am over-protective of all my orphans. They have all been abused and mistreated I must not spare my love and concern. . The children have qualities that demons prize, like beauty, wit and intelligence. Confusion and sickness assail them. That renders them vulnerable. Would the children embrace the Negative forces? Would they renounce the treasures offered to them and choose to return to me, the only loving Father figure they have ever known?

"Deinos, would you dress in all your finery and attend the ball at the Crystal Palace of Prince Kratos?" Jude asked suddenly.

"I’ll do whatever you think is best Jude. There is just a small detail. I have not been invited."

"That is not a problem for a dwarf with your gift of gab. Kratos loves to surround himself with them. The children must be awake until midnight the first of May. The dwarves will keep the children entertained. Please find them and once you do, promise me that you will never leave their side, no matter what takes place."

"You have my promise and more Jude. What about you? What will you do?"

"I am not strong enough yet to confront Prince Kratos alone. I will summon help. I am staying right here in the Cathedral all night. I must try and communicate with my angels and other spirits of light. Go with God Deinos."


"The small children will find it hard to sleep tonight," laughed a handsome youth. His white shirt was drenched in red wine. He tore off the shirt and tied it around his waist. Women loved to run their hands over his hard muscles. He was a hunk of a man. The women and he knew it.

"You are wrong. I see children running around all over the streets," replied a bare chested girl who had painted her nipples a bright red.

"You said it. Children who are able to run can enjoy this night, not infants," he giggled and begun to pour what was left of the wine into the girl’s nipples.

"Ooh! Now look what you’ve done. My vermillion color is running down my chest. It looks as if I am bleeding. Suck on my nipples and clean them up this instant or I shall find another man to couple with tonight," ordered the pretty girl who was beginning to get aroused over the idea that her lover for the night was about to suckle her for a long time.

"It is Walpurgis Nacht. We are supposed to abandon ourselves to our wildest desires," retorted the young man. He cupped her firm teats and encircled her nipples with his palms moist from the wine and his desire.

She slid slowly into his shoulders. He was strong, a cadet from the Military Academy in Bohemia. He grasped her small, round bottom with ease and lifted her towards his face in such a way that she was forced to open her legs and straddle him. Her wetness on his nose and mouth aroused him.

"You excite me wench. What’s your name?" He asked as he began to toy with her vulva. His engorged stalk pointed straight up and he was sorry that he had not worn more close fitting trousers in order to parade his well-shaped and large sexual piece.

In Walpurgisnacht strangers had sex without addressing a word towards each other. These were the time-honored customs. They had conversed in a manner of speaking. That made it different.

Iona had slipped out of the Orphanage of Santa Marya, where she assisted Father Jude Kuzmik and the nuns to look after the children. Tonight was her night to rid herself of all her inhibitions. She could go back to being a serious girl tomorrow. For the first and last time in my life, I would like to be a part of the celebration of Walpurgisnacht and surrender myself to the most forbidden pleasures.

"Iona, I am Iona," she gasped in delight.

"Iona, you have the prettiest nipples to suck. Otto, that’s me, will suck them and your other pretties down there all night long."

"Yes!" she screamed.

"Keep screaming my lovely. It arouses me more."

Iona nested her head upon his chest, so that she was hanging with her face down. She felt his tongue and his fingers and she started to slither. Then she realized that he was walking towards the shimmering lights of Saint Stefan’s Square. Across them, in all its majesty and splendor stood the Crystal Palace of the princely Kratos family. What a way to celebrate Walpurgisnacht!” quivered Iona, who was in the throes of rapturous sexual excitement.

Tens of thousands of candles surrounded them. Their fire ignited them all the more, which, in turn fed into the brightness of the burning candles.

"Yes. Yes and Yes," she screeched in lust.


Thousands upon thousands of yeses reverberated throughout Prague that Walpurgisnacht. Those dedicated to Eros headed for the Square facing the Crystal Palace. Their collective cries when they reached never ending orgasms only spurred them to continue their lust mating. Tumultuous sounds of extreme pleasure came from the streets of Prague. Men, women and children, their faces painted in riotous colors, with clothes that hid nothing, laughed and caroused boisterously. They ran wildly through the streets and alleyways, pawing each other obscenely. Some young men goosed the girls whether they were pretty or not. Old men with hard erections, ran after little girls. But the little girls ran faster and eluded them.

"We want handsome young bucks, not old goats," they said in lilting voices,

The old and the young drunk wine from a leather mug with beaks on them. Most had become so drunk, the alcohol spilled on the icy streets, fouling the sooty slush even more. Those who had money noisily soaked up Aquavit from heavy ceramic mugs. Some slipped on the ice, breaking the mugs, carelessly leaving the broken pieces on the ground for the next reveler to slice an instep or cut a palm open. Men and women fornicated on the sidewalks in frenzied abandon. The crowds went past them and ignored them.

In German folklore, the night of April the 30th, named after Saint Walpurgis, whose feast day coincided with the ancient pagan festival was the time when evil witches and warlocks met on the Brocken Mountains and held revels with the Devil and his legions. It was a night of unbridled lust to some. To others, it was a time of innocent revelry.


In the distance the Crystal Palace of Prince Kratos in Saint Stefan's Square stood out, bright as a luminescent sun. More than ten thousand candles in the Square of Saint Stefan burnt in a spectacle of fire.

"Imagine the money spent on ten thousand beeswax candles," murmured one of the servants of Prince Kratos.

"What about all those loud cries of sexual pleasure. They sound like dogs and cats really going at it," said a disgruntled servant.

"This is nothing. Some couples in the square remind me of swine and bears. My piece is so sore from my frequent masturbations. Why does His Serene Highness not consider hiring eunuchs?"

"It is bad for business. Tomorrow, all the taverns, inns, whorehouses and bordellos will get an unbelievable amount of business from those who did not get to trumpet anyone and those who are still so hot from Walpurgisnacht, they need to continue their humping or they will die."

The ten thousand candles had been placed into crystal candelabra in a design, which resembled two round circles. The smaller circle hovered over the larger circle.

"No one knows what they mean," declared a richly adorned transvestite.

"It must be some ancient symbol. Prince Kratos is a learned man," replied his older companion who was naked except for an extravagant hat of a musketeer and a mask encrusted with gems.

The ancient symbols represented the cat. People concentrated on sexual exchanges of every kind, so they failed to notice that the larger circle had a crystal extremity made of minute circles, which represented its tail.

The Crystal Palace overflowed with guests in various stages of undress. Shrieks, screams, lecherous laughter and moans abounded. Orgies and crazed paroxysms of orgasms were commonplace in the countless salons of the Palace.

Part of the reason it was called the Crystal Palace was its hundreds of chandeliers which hung from every room. Designed and executed especially for the Kratos family by the Skoda Glassworks in Czechoslovakia the chandeliers were shaped like crystal stars, suns, and moons. Several chandeliers featured cats in different stages of attack.

A spellbinding never-ending collection of objets d'art exclusively in crystal always enchanted its visitors, sober, drugged or drunk. Hans Christian Andersen had fantasized about the Crystal Palace of the alluring Princes Kratos when he wrote his fairy tale, "The Ice Queen."

The royal blue flowers, the moon rays on the flowers and on the six fountains gurgling out blue black waters, gave the gardens an otherworldly panorama.

Prince Kratos, a Sorcerer and Adorer of Darkness stood by himself, enveloped in a deep royal blue cape. This color, "bleu royale" was only allowed to kings and princes under pain of flogging. The dye makers near Prague would not think of selling any fabric colored "bleu royale" to a commoner, not even to the richest merchant.

The cape trailed on the wet and icy ground. Under the moon's glow, Kratos emanated radiance as he circled, all six of the fountains, clasping a crystal cat in his bosom. His lips moved. The words unclear as the swishing of his cape and the crunching of his blue doeskin boots on the ice muted what he was saying.

He stopped suddenly. Kratos begun stroking and fondling the cat, about sixteen inches in height, crafted entirely out of crystal. He had painstakingly selected two flawless cabochon rock crystals from the ancient riverbeds of the Carpathian Mountains.

What was commonly called rock crystal was mixed with lead and glass. It was almost impossible to find authentic rock crystals birthed by the natural four elements of Fire, Wind, Air and Water. They are even more rare than flawless diamonds, reflected Kratos.

He took the two perfect fifty-carat rock crystal spheres and inserted them into the black holes of the Crystal Cat. He lifted the cat over his head with both hands and intoned,

"I offer this most beautiful of objects to you Selena, Goddess of the Moon."

The moon, Selena, was nothing but a reflection of the Sun; it was not a source of light. Thus, those who pursued the Light, considered it a negative force, used by those who practiced the Black Arts. Selena; titular head of the spell workers and spell casters of Darkness. By the grace of her brother, the Sun God, Helios, she rode only at night in a chariot driven by two black and blind horses. There, she performed her strange errands for those who worshipped her, such as her favorite Innamorato, Prince Kratos. She never had as much time as she would like, for her brother Helios came out in the morning and she had to disappear entirely before the light rays of Helios struck. Certain destruction awaited her if she remained and broke the agreement she had wrung out of her brother.

“A nacht Tracht; Gul be Harra!
A nacht Tracht; Gul be Harra!
Kratos sajina Selena!”

He chanted. He pleaded. He invoked the dark forces in the abyss of Selena. Kratos named the crystal cat “Vartan.” As the moon’s reflection settled on the cat with the crystal eyes, a real and live cat appeared. It was not easy for Kratos at first to distinguish it, as it too was dark, with long blue-black fur.

“Vartan!” Prince Kratos cried out. “Vartan! I, Prince Kratos, am the instrument of your creation.”

Around the cat spun a vortex of spidery dark blue fog. Vartan’s phosphorescent bluish green eyes seemed to float in the darkness, growing larger and larger, while at the same time becoming crystalline.

“Come, my ravishing Vartan, come and see the darling children. What an enchanting Walpurgisnacht this will be,” exclaimed Kratos.

Vartan lifted up Prince Kratos who straddled his form in the air and rode on his back. They floated past the dark flowers, over the six fountains now spitting out a black fluid.

The evil Prince caressed the malevolent Vartan and murmured, “You will love these children. They are as pure as your eyes of priceless crystal.”

Vartan turned his head and bathed Prince Kratos’ entire face and neck with his blue tongue, roaring softly into his ears.

“Vartan, my beloved, you excite me but the children are waiting. Go to them! Possess them!”


In the children’s playroom, dwarves dressed as jesters and harlequins had been trying desperately to keep the children entertained. Earlier in the evening, they had taught them the dances of yesteryear – the gigue, the gavotte, the mazurka and the minuet – while Deinos played on the forte piano. Deinos felt sorry for the children, for they had to stay awake at all costs.

“We shall be flayed alive if the children fall asleep,” snapped Chiron, who, as the oldest of the dwarves, felt responsible for them.

“Come on, children, I’ll show you the devil’s dance,” stormed Chiron.

“It is almost midnight. It’s late,” protested Franz, one of the eldest of the children, who would soon celebrate his sixteenth birthday, together with his twin sister, Magda. They could no longer keep their eyes open no matter how hard they tried. Franz knew it was dangerous to do so. Magda glanced at him and clutched his hand in fear.

"Something bad is about to happen," she said softly.

Franz nodded in assent. “I feel the same way although I cannot say what kind of bad things will take place."

The seventeenth century Shiraz carpet on which, they lay, was comforting. It only served to make them ever more drowsy. A sweet tabby, Fedora, slept between them, without a care in the world. Blessed are the cats, they thought.

The perfect beauty of Magda and Franz had entranced Kratos. Tall, lithe, fair, golden eyed, just like lynxes and harmoniously proportioned. Franz in particular, was built the way the ancient Greeks liked their youth. An Achilles for example, would have fallen in love with him at first sight. The feminine softness within his virility and masculinity gave Franz a fatal attraction to both men and women.

Magda, on the other hand possessed the smallest waist Kratos had ever seen on a tall girl. Her breasts invited Kratos to fondle and suck them to his lust’s content. Once she had birthed an infant, the milk in her engorged cups would satiate him for years. A wet-nurse would be more than adequate for the infant. Conversely, Magda had a masculine force within her female sexuality, which rendered her irresistible to members of both sexes.

Yes! Vartan and Selena would adore their new instruments. Why, they might even play with them happily for a few years, Kratos had mused the first time he set eyes on the twins.

All the children wore the finest ensembles, and the comeliest white velvet richly embroidered with pearls set off their unique beauty.

Lazzara, at eight years, showed off her long red plaits, which reached to her ankles. She slept an exhausted sleep. Chiron pleaded, then threatened and finally he had shaken her. Her sea green eyes remained shut.

Anton, the eldest at eighteen, was soporific; his harmonica has fallen on the carpet. Now and then, he opened his large hazel eyes only to close them again. He was uneasy. As a thief, his gutter instincts churned continuously, especially tonight. He did not trust the dwarves, though he was unsure about Deinos because he was a musician and because Father Jude had befriended him.

Jan, who was about fifteen, threw daggers around the harlequins. He considered it a good strategy to stay awake. Chiron menaced him with both his fists.

“Stop! Or…”

“You’ll what?” Interrupted Jan, as he let fly two daggers past Chiron. Jan had lived a reckless life with his father who had been even more daring than he. He had died in a bordello, fighting four cutthroats.

Deinos sat at the piano and recited silent prayers. He was afraid but he did not know why, only that each second that passed seemed more inexplicably terrifying than the last.

Ten-year-old Matthias slept and snored loudly on top of the oak wood forte piano. He was the male version of Snow White, as its author-Perrault had envisioned in his fairy tale. Pale as angelic death, masses of jet-black curls. Huge, round bluest blue eyes. Enigmatic, mysterious, and sensually attractive. Consumption was slowly but inexorably eating away at his little lungs and his bones. That was the reason he snored- he could not breathe properly and thus, slept fitfully.

Prince Kratos, like a diabolical peacock, glided through corridors, blurred salons, and walls covered in dark blue velvet. Explicit erotic paintings hung from the silk lined walls in crystal frames that delineated their sexual attractions even more.


Jude Kuzmik S. J. knelt before a Renaissance painting that covered one wall of a side altar. An unknown artist inspired by a vision had executed the work featuring an unusual theme: the different ranks of angels. Jude had remained in prayer and meditation inside the Cathedral of Our Lady Victorious since early this evening. One angel stood out, the dazzling Throne YA-EL Jude did not believe their order was rigid. God gave specific powers to certain angels. Only YA-EL, if God willed it, could save the children. He gazed intently at YA-EL and begged him with all his heart.

Domine non sum dignus, ut inters sub tectum meum, et sanabitur anima mea. Lord, I am not worthy that you should come under my roof, say but the word and my soul shall be healed.

"I am a lowly and modest man, but my heart is brimming over with love for all the children who are in danger tonight. Satanic predators are everywhere. My children from Santa Marya face the greatest threat. Their souls might be taken from them before they realize what is happening. I implore you, save them. I am ready to die in their stead,” he affirmed in a whisper without hesitation.

The sky blue light stunned Jude for a few seconds and terror gripped him. Devils appeared inside churches all the time. He was a thorn on their side and he intended to foil Kratos’ evil designs on the children, so he had to be eliminated with all the means at their disposal. Their power was immense. But before him as in a vision, stood the Angel YA-El. He did not speak and Jude did not dare address him out loud. He continued praying in silence.

"What have we, a delusional generation, shrunk from? What have we, in our impiety left inviolate?’

He was bathed in the light. Jude felt serenity in the midst of the unearthly blackness out on the streets of Prague. He closed his eyes for he felt the light might blind him for all time.

"Do not leave your post in the Cathedral. You are a man of great faith. The children will come here at dawn. They will need you more than ever. Blessed be the name of Jesus,” announced the angel YA- EL.


Vartan, with ink blue claws outstretched and black fangs bared, soundlessly swooped down and overtook Kratos. Vartan was so close to the door of the children’s playroom, his whiskers could touch it. He gasped, then he initiated a series of soft low moans, which Kratos knew from experience would rise to the level of the shrillest decibels. The sight of Franz and Magda and the others would bring him to a series of blood searing screams as he experienced one orgasm after another.

Anyone who has ever heard and listened with attention to cats in coital union can attest to the unearthly sounds emanating from male and female in their frenzied heat.

Suddenly, and unexpectedly for Vartan and Kratos, great shimmering shafts of light begun criss-crossing inside the playroom.

“Vartan, enter quickly. Take the children! Possess them now!” ordered an alarmed Kratos.

Flashes of blinding light, accompanied by the sound of thunderous drums and trumpets enveloped the room. The light surrounded every corner of the room. Even the nooks and crannies, for the Crystal Palace had stood majestically in Saint Stefan’s Square for over four hundred years. The dwarves all cowered in terror. Only Deinos, remained sitting at his forte piano, too dazed to move, but unafraid now that the lights had comforted him in some way.

Kratos covered his head with his cape. In a voice, that was eerily horrifying to hear, he screamed “YA-EL! YA-El! Why are you not damned? Who summoned you?"

YA-El was the Angel of the Thrones. In the orders of angels, the thrones were the most beatific and the most powerful as spiritual warriors on behalf of the children of the world. The sorcerers of Selena feared them the most. YA-El had always thwarted Prince Kratos’ wicked plans. On this Walpurgisnacht, Kratos had come so close to gifting Vartan, the form incarnate of Selena, the Goddess of the Moon, with six pure and beautiful children.

The Angel of the Thrones, YA-El, angrily beckoned Vartan with one finger, exactly like the finger of God in Michelangelo’s Creation of the world at the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel in Saint Peter’s Basilica. Vartan descended very slowly, and put down his blue form humbly at YA-El’s feet. Vartan begun to shrink in size as YA-El declaimed The Great Invocation.

From the point of Light within the Mind of God
Let Light stream forth into the minds of Men.
Let light descend on Earth.

"I order you, Vartan, in the name of God to turn into crystal forevermore."

YA-El continued The Great Invocation. Loudly and clearly as the crystal bells which had begun to peal within the Palace muted their music and joined him in prayer.

From the point of Love within the Heart of God
Let love stream forth into the hearts of men.
May Christ return to Earth.

Ya-El turned his gaze towards the children and the good dwarf Deinos, the pianist and singer who now appeared to be in profound sleep.

“They will remember nothing of you Kratos and of Vartan. This satanic Walpurgisnacht will be but a nightmare the moment they set foot in a church and return to their orphanage.”

The Angel of the Thrones, YA-El, rebuked Prince Kratos with the cold fury, which only the Thrones possessed, as God had given them this power.

“I represent the wrath of God. You have created an evil creature, the cat Vartan who feeds off the bodies and the souls of the vulnerable, the lonely and the sick children.”

YA-El stood in all of his glory, in accordance with God’s orders. His wingspan was massive. In some ways, he resembled Prince Kratos, for the Princes Kratos had once been spiritual creatures. Ya-El, the Angel of the Thrones, was encircled in a shimmering white cloak, with a circlet of fuchsias around his waist.

YA-El removed a rock crystal cat from inside the folds of his white cloak, identical to the demonic Vartan.

"This is Vayis,” he told Kratos and Vartan as he gazed at them sternly.

“Leave this room immediately!” the Angel YA-El commanded Kratos who hissed loudly by way of a reply.

He turned to gaze at Vartan’s eyes, which, brimmed over with hate. "Vartan, you will never possess these children. They will be protected throughout their lives. They will die when God decrees it. Most importantly, their souls will not be yours to play with."

Black flames retched out of Vartan’s gaping mouth. "I am unrepentant for all eternity."

"Then, the time has come for you to descend into hell,“ YA-EL issued a peremptory order. There would be no turning back.

Kratos screamed in fury. YA-El scooped up the demonic Vartan with one hand, holding unto the angelic Vayis with his other hand and floated up, into the shafts of light.

“Follow me, Do as I say, " he ordered. His rebuke left no choice to Prince Kratos, who was constrained to follow him.

The Crystal Palace was hushed. The awesome bells from the Gothic, Baroque, and Renaissance churches of Prague began pealing their joy at the entry into the buds of spring. Dawn had erupted. It was now the first of May.

Prince Kratos stumbled in shock into the library built by the first Prince Kratos for his spiritual and occult studies, four hundred years ago.

“You have turned your father’s and your ancestors room into a den of iniquity.” YA-El pronounced judgment sitting on a high chair, carved by the extraordinary Venetian master, Andrea Brustolon, out of a single massive piece of mahogany.

“The Cosmic forces of Light created Vayis. God has permitted me to endow Vayis with the power of light." YA-El lifted his arms; both crystal cats reposed on the Shiraz carpet.

“Lord,” he prayed on his knees. “I am your humble servant YA-El, the one who obeys, the Meek one who bends his knees before his Creator.”

Light descended flooding the room. The light blinded Kratos. He lay prostrate on the precious Qum prayer rug.

From the center where the will of God is known
Let purpose guide the little minds of men.
The purpose, which the Masters know and serve.

“What have you done? Damn you! I wish the devil could take you and force you to stop the foul gibberish you are reciting."

"Kratos, you know that the devil cannot take possession of our souls unless we freely choose to give it to him."

Kratos swore, blasphemed and used the vilest expressions against the Christ Jesus, in a paroxysm of hate.

“No, Kratos,” the Angel told him sadly, “you are the one who is damned.”

The angel went on, as he picked up both crystal cats, identical even to their fifty-carat rock crystal eyes.

“No human being will ever know which is the demonic and which is the angelic. I will hide the Cats with Crystal Eyes so that other negative beings like you will never find them and use them for their evil designs. I have the blessing of the Lord to do this.”

“I hate the Lord,” Prince Kratos spat out his venom at YA-EL. “I hate you," He lunged at the angel, but a crystal wall encased him and effectively stopped any attempt on his part to do him harm.

The Angel finished the invocation he had initiated. Nothing disturbed him.

"From the center which we call the race of men
Let the plan of Love and Light work out
And may it seal the door where evil dwells".

YA-EL twirled to face His Serene Highness, Prince Kurt Kratos.

“As punishment for your sins of pride and lust, you will die and be condemned for a thousand lifetimes! The six innocent children in the playroom – Franz, his sister Magda, Anton, Jan, Lazara and Matthias – whom you drugged and kidnapped from the orphanage of Santa Marya, will be returned. Your soul will suffer terrible punishment, so God, our Lord has descried.”

Outside the Crystal Palace, slivers of morning light began to appear in Prague. The bells went on pealing. Even the Angel YA-El felt his body pulsate with the rhythm of the joyful bells. Yet his eyes filled with tears for what he had to do on behalf of He whom he served- the Lord Jesus.

Kratos was writhing on the floor of his prison, flailing against his crystal cage. He uttered primeval sounds so frightening that his circular crystal prison shook violently, as did the two crystal cats. YA-El placed his hands on Vartan and Vayis until calm returned to their bodies.

Kratos ranted in despair and in desolation, “I will never obey God. I will never follow He who wants to punish me. I choose to be impure and evil."

From the eyes of the Angel of the Thrones, YA-El, daggers of fire pierced through the crystal glass around Prince Kratos. Within his voluminous, blinding white cape, the Angel YA-El unwound the fuchsia flowers knotted around his waist. Slowly, the fuchsias turned into a sword as tall as he. Holding the weapon, that glinted fuchsia and magenta with both hands, the Angel brought it down on Prince Kratos. He turned into thousands of crimson crystal pieces. Prince Kratos had been absorbed into the atmosphere. It is as if he never was.

Shards of glass shattered in the other rooms of the Crystal Palace. They fell on the guests- now in a drugged stupor and in a state of suspended animation and so, oblivious to their bleeding bodies and their inevitable deaths by slow exsanguinations.

YA-El took both crystal cats, one on each hand, and flew through the walls and ceilings of the Crystal Palace. He shone with the Lord’s glory in his white cloak, as he exposed Vayis and Vartan to the Prague dawn. The sun glinted and cast myriad reflections off their crystal bodies into the spires and painted glass windows. The spires refracted the light into millions of galactic pieces, while the thunderous sounds of the ancient bells and carillon of Prague welcomed the new day.

Walpurgisnacht had passed No one mourned its passing. The sexual energy released invigorated and at the same time drained Prague of its life force. Many decades would pass before the people of Prague and of other cities in Germany would have the opportunity to observe, celebrate and take part in another Walpurgisnacht. No one knew about this yet, except perhaps the Angel YA-EL.

The Angel of the Thrones dissolved with the two crystal cats into the light. His melodious voice asked, “Vayis, angelic cat, guardian of the good cats, won’t you do something to wake up the sweet tabby between Franz and Magda in such a way that she will alert Franz?”

The pealing of the bells continued. The tabby Fedora jumped up and landed on Franz. He looked puzzled and listened closely. He heard nothing, but rose in one movement from the Shiraz carpet. His eyes ran over the sleeping children Fedora remained agitated. She was trying to tell him something. The nasty dwarf Chiron appeared not to be breathing. All the mean jesters lay motionless and stiff.

"Oh dear God, they are all dead! Franz exclaimed in terror." Only Deinos is alive. I can see his chest heaving up and down."

Franz bounded towards him. "Deinos wake up," yelled Franz shaking him. “Something is horribly wrong,”

Franz and Deinos inched the massive oak door open. They saw that it was carved and gilded. They raced down the countless corridors. The dwarf was surprisingly fast in keeping up with Franz. They wrenched open door after door and took a peek inside; naked bodies caked with blood and filth lay frozen in grotesque positions. In shock and disbelief, they continued swinging open another door, then another, and yet another. Franz stared in horror.

“I…I…I don’t understand,” he stammered. “Why are all these people so naked and so horribly dead?”

Pieces of glass and crystal stained with blood covered the dead people’s eyes, breasts and genitalia.

“I…I…I have never seen this kind of death before,” he kept stammering. In the orphanage many children die, but they are so peaceful in death," he observed with clarity despite his fear.

“Your Serene Highness,” Franz called out in a high voice. He tried to control his trembling voice. “Your Serene Highness, Prince Kra…”

“Don’t pronounce that name!” The distant yet unseen voice of the angel YA-EL, sternly ordered him.

Franz ran to the library and encountered countless crimson glass particles on the Shiraz Persian rug. Franz and Deinos remained motionless, paralyzed with fear.

Franz heard YA-El’s voice in his mind, “Franz listen. Get away from the Crystal Palace. Now! Save yourselves. Don’t look back. Run as fast as you and the rest of the children are capable of doing."

The chandelier above Franz’s head sizzled, crackled and exploded. Franz made up his mind to obey the honey-toned voice he could hear as clearly as a bell but could not see. He ran blindly out of the library, into the corridors and back to the playroom. Deinos and he found themselves panting hard.

"The angel must have guided us back here. I don’t know this palace. Do you?"

Deinos was so out of breath, he could only shake his large head. Franz grabbed his sister Magda by her shoulders.

"Please Franz. Let me sleep a little bit more."

He raised her up into a sitting position, ”don’t ask questions; we have no time. We must escape from this place NOW!”

Deinos took Matthias off the forte piano and ran his hands down his cheek. “Come on, little one, we have to leave this place. Just hold my hand.”

Magda scooped up Lazara in her arms while Fedora the tabby jumped into the arms of Franz. Jan and Anton between them decided to carry Matthias and Deinos as they ran towards deliverance.

“We must abandon the evil Crystal Palace and return at once to our orphanage,” stressed Franz.

Matthias, who had tuberculosis, begun coughing from the stress, staining his white velvet jacket with fresh and scarlet blood,

The children sprinted headlong, looking neither to the right nor to the left. The massive crystal chandeliers of the Crystal Palace - in the ballrooms, bedrooms, great halls and corridors – begun spurting and belching out sheets of fire.

"Don’t be afraid. Keep going Franz. The rest will follow you. I have made sure that your guardian angels know the way out of these mazes and labyrinthine corridors."

It was the same Angel who had addressed Franz in the library. He began to turn his neck, to see if the others had heard the Angel.

"Don’t waste time. No one else can hear me. I am communicating directly with your heart,’ said the Angel.

All six children – Franz, Magda, Jan, Anton, Matthias and Lazara, and their dear friend, Deinos the dwarf, the good man who played the forte piano, rushed headlong out of the Crystal Palace of Prince Kratos, leaving its massive bronze doors ajar.

“May Jesus protect us; may our Savior Jesus protect us,” Franz intoned as he sprinted into the Square of Saint Stefan with Fedora clinging to his velvet jacket by her claws and Magda hanging on to his free hand.

“Tell the others not to look back,” warned the Angel YA-EL

He heard Magda’s prayers behind him. “May Jesus protect us; may our Savior Jesus protect us.”

Lazara did not want to see what lay before them. She kept her eyes tightly shut. Many thought she was deaf mute, but her hearing was only partially impaired after a bout with measles. She heard the long series of explosions coming from the Crystal Palace of the rogue Prince Kratos.

"One could never trust a man only because he dressed well, spoke good German, lived in a palace and was a Prince. Fairy tales overflowed with men like Prince Kratos. I am going to continue reading fairy tales. The stories can teach me about life."

Jan begged for the protection of Jesus and his angels. “Please, Jesus, in the name of the Father and of the son and of the Holy Ghost. Send us your angels to guide and protect us. I will no longer be a thief. I know I never say my prayers at Santa Marya. I promise I will try to be better person."

Matthias, his pale hands clasped against his eyes, was still coughing up blood as Jan clasped him in a tight embrace.

There was something strange about that man. His manner of looking at me always gave me cold shivers. I think an angel saved us from being destroyed by that wicked Prince Kratos. Perhaps the angel will make me well again. If not, God’s will be done. I would like only not to cough up so much blood.

Anton panted from the weight of Deinos. “Oh Lord, I never realized till this day just how heavy a dwarf could be. Please give me the strength to go on,” he prayed silently.

Deinos was holding Anton’s harmonica in his hands. “I will never doubt you again, Jesus and Maria. Please save us.”

Franz shouted as they entered a narrow street away from Saint Stefan’s Square. “Don’t look back! Remember that. Keep up the pace. Don’t stop until we reach the Orphanage of Santa Marya.”

He covered his eyes with his hands so as not to be tempted to steal a single glance. Franz had trusted the Angel. Magda trusted her twin brother. All the children placed themselves in the hands of Jesus and Maria. Therefore, they trusted Franz. None of them looked back.

The Crystal Palace of Prince Kratos ignited suddenly as if by spontaneous combustion into an immense ball of incandescent fire. It rained crystal and glass throughout the Square of Saint Stefan.


Iona had lost count of her orgasms and that of Otto’s. They lay on an ermine lined cape, but she did not know how they had come by it. The last stabs of Otto’s penis had driven her over the abyss. Rapture engulfed her once again. Otto gasped softly. They had both become hoarse from shouting and screaming all night as they writhed and pounded in sexual frenzy. He fell heavily against her. There was so much blood. Slivers and fragments of glass covered Otto’s back and head. Otto was dead.

"Help me please," but she had no voice left. Besides no one would hear her. Glass made an infernal noise as it crashed. She pushed Otto’s inert body aside, bounded up unsteadily and grabbed the only thing she had at her disposal to cover her nakedness. She wrapped herself in the velvet blue cape covered in ermine. The fur would keep her warm. She bent towards Otto.

"Please Otto, Are you all right? Talk to me." He lay motionless with his eyes crossed. An inner voice warned Iona. Run away from here this instant or you will die just like he.

Until last night-Walpurgisnacht, she had been a good girl, a virgin who prayed every night. She had cared for and loved the children at Santa Marya. "Jesus and Mary and all the angels in heaven. Forgive me for I have sinned. Help me."

She cried out as she ran barefoot with the hood over her head not heeding any one. Her only chance at salvation was to go inside the nearest church and pray that whatever evil was out there would not touch her. "Hail Mary full of grace, the Lord is with thee," prayed Iona.

She realized she was in front of the Cathedral of Our Lady Victorious. On impulse she dashed inside, still reciting the Hail Mary to the Madonna and to the Infant Jesus.


The bells of Prague continued their joyous pealing. Light streamed upward from the altars of all the churches of Prague. Its priests and religious leaders thanked God that the awful night of obscenity was over. The Church was against these base celebrations. They had to contend with an increasingly godless state. Czechoslovakia was still part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. The Emperor Franz Joseph had granted the diverse religions, ethnicities and nationalities within the Empire a great deal of autonomy.

"Look at the situation this way, Your Excellency. Walpurgisnacht is a good safety valve. It is far better for the young people to bugger and hump one another endlessly rather than to kill each other in useless wars of politics, territories and religion, and other equally pointless reasons," The old Prince Kurt Kratos had once explained to the Bishop of Prague a century ago.

The Austro-Hungarian Empire under the Hapsburg Emperor Franz Joseph was seething and smoldering with revolutionary ideas. Anarchists, terrorists, intellectuals, free Masons and seductive courtesans, all formed part of the magma which at any moment threatened to overrun Europe. The Bolsheviks secretly plotted the downfall of the Romanov Czar in Russia. The nationalist Serbians wanted to rid themselves of the Hapsburgs at all costs. An assassination would not be a moral or ethical deterrent. The German Kaiser Wilhelm wanted war- damn the cost.

“War! By Jingo, “exclaimed the bankers and the puppet masters of England’s George V. They too had an Empire and the sun never set on theirs. As with all great tragedies, the Royal Rulers of Europe without exception were all cousins. It would be a blood feud beyond any imagined thus far. One in which the world had yet to see and witness. A blood feud turned into a bloodbath- a World War from which the world might never recover.

“Time is running out," pronounced a distraught Pope Pius X. He was the only leader who had horrific premonitions of what was to come. No one listened. No one in power cared. This may explain why the Walpurgisnacht of the 30th of April 1914 stood out in debauchery and violence.

Thus, the Catholic Church grudgingly agreed with the cynical and wise assessments of the old Prince Kratos and their Imperial and Royal Highnesses, who seemed wise and pious men. The Vatican Curia had its own cohorts of political and practical Monsignors. They never interfered with Walpurgisnacht and refrained from comments or protests. For reasons of safety and expediency- the churches and cathedrals could not be used as immense bordellos. They remained closed for twenty- four hours, until dawn of the first day of May.

In the baptistery of the Cathedral of Our Lady Victorious, a ten-meter high painting of angels done by an unknown 16th century artist was illuminated and surrounded by a ray of light. It featured the orders of Angels; Archangels, Cherubim, Dominations, Powers, Principalities, Seraphim, Virtues and Thrones. The countenance of the angel of the thrones YA-EL was easily recognized.

"Let Light and Love and Power restore the Plan on Earth."

The angel YA-EL finished his Invocation and glanced at the sky. The Light was upon them. For how long? He did not know. The sound of horses’ hooves startled him. And then he saw them, the Four dark horsemen on black steeds. They flew across the sky and traversed the Earth. He recognized them and trembled for Man.

Pestilence, Famine, War and Death would once again be upon Humanity.

“The Creator endowed Man with free will. Why is it so frequently misused,” the angel of the Thrones YA-El cried out. There was only a holy silence.


Before the children reached the Orphanage of Santa Marya, Franz suggested, “Let us go inside the Cathedral of Our Lady Victorious and kneel before the altar of the Christ Child Jesus of Prague. We must thank Him for our Deliverance. "

"I for one, shall kneel on the icy stone floor to pray, instead of on the carved wooden benches with kneepads," said Jan.

"We will all kneel on the floor. I will take Matthias in my arms," suggested Deinos.


Jude Kuzmik S. J. dashed towards them with his arms outstretched. They ran into his arms and embraced him ardently.

"Oh Father Jude, we did not realize how much we all loved you until this moment," wept Franz. All the children were overcome by emotion.

Jude did not bother to wipe the copious tears from his face. "Thank the Christ Child Jesus of Prague and his angel YA-EL for bringing you back safely. Thank you Deinos for being there. You may not believe me but…"

"We believe everything Father Jude. Everything," affirmed Franz, his voice quivering.

Jude then espied Iona, who panted towards them. Bare and bleeding feet from cut glass, her nakedness covered by a voluminous fur lined royal blue cloak, she began crying out, " forgive me, forgive me, and forgive me."

He clasped her into his bosom. There was room in his heart for the misguided Iona as well. "You are safe, dear girl. When you are up to it, you can tell me your story. I will listen."

A very sick Matthias stretched out his arms towards Jude who enfolded him in his strong arms. Somehow, Fedora the tabby was holding on to Matthias. Jude removed her gently and placed him into Jan’s light hands.

Cats, as a rule were not allowed inside Santa Marya. Jude vowed to make an exception. This was a special cat. She had been touched by one of the Angel YA-EL’s helpers, the cat Vayis.

"My sweet child. You must have your medication as quickly as possible. But, before we all go back to Santa Marya, there is something you must do for us. Please, little one, tell us what we should say to the Christ Child Jesus."

Jude lowered his head to hear Matthias raucous and labored whisper.

“May – our – Christ- Child- Jesus- bless – the – children, - May – they – abide – and –endure – for – all – time

Word for word, he slowly repeated Matthias prayer to the others.

“Amen!” they exclaimed in awe and gratitude.


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